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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



The BALLADS OF 
BOURBONNAIS 



WALLACE BRUCE AMSBARY 



WITH PICTURES BY 
WILL VAWTER 



INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright 1904 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company 



March 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two GoDies Received 
APR 25 1904 

Copyrlffht Entry 
CLASS CL XXc. No. 
COPY B ' 






PRESS OF 

BRAUNWORTH & CO. 

BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN, N Y. 



TO MY WIFE 



CONTENTS 

Page 



Fighting Joe"Gossette 



15 

Opie Read ^^ 

RUBAIYAT OF MATHIEU LeTTELLIER 34 

Verry Deffinite 39 

Ma Little Brown Babee 41 

MoN Pierre , . . . . 46 

De Fiddleur of Papinsau . 60 

De Bacheleur of Bourbonnai.s 'i^ 

De Captaine OF De " Marguerite' ?9 

De Cirque at Ol' Ste .^nxh 98 

Tim Flanagan's IMistake 107 

'Long De Kankakee 112 

When Francois Joined De Lodge 117 

De Gradual Commence 130 

Ma Belle Adele 138 

Wen De Frogs Begin to Sing 145 

Oncl' Antoine on 'Change 150 

Anatole Dubois at De Horse Show 156 

Jean Peter Long 167 

Football at Chebanse 173 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

I Wan' to Buy Som' Hose Frontispiece ^ 

"Fighting Joe" Gossette— Title 15 ' 

Tree Year Ago I'm Fall on Lof 17 , 

Wan Fine Brood of Game Chick 21 '- 

Jus' Den De Sentinale He Com' 25 v^ 

"Fighting Joe" Gossette— Tailpiece 29 

Opie Read— Title 30 

It Give Me Moch Annoy 31 

RuBAiYAT of Mathieu Lettellier— Title 34' 

Day's Mos'ly Girls an' Boys 35 • 

Verry Deffinite— Title 39 

Ma Little Brown Babee— Title 41 - 

To Nestle an' Lof You Troo all De Day Long 43 

Ma Little Brown Babee— Tailpiece 45 "* 

Mon Pierre— Title 46 ^y 

It is To-Morrow Morning Dat I Marry Pierre Minot 47 / 

An' Op De Padt Walk Pierre Minot 53 / 

As 'Long De Road We Skip 57 ^ 

De Fiddleur of Papineau— Title 60 

Two Stranger Dat is Gat Off Train 61 -,; 



Illustrations — Continued 

Wen She Pass' De Grad Beeg Store 65*^ - 

He Wak' Hees Leddle Chile 69 *" 

De Fiddleur Hol' De Leddle Gairl Clos' to Hees Heart ... 73 

De Fiddleur of Papineau— Tailpiece 75 ' 

De Bacheleur of Bourbonnais— Title , 76 

He's Drass Op in New Suit of Close 77 

But Josie's Gat More String Onto Her Bow 81 '/ 

She's Tink of Long Tam' 'Go 85 / 

De Captaine of De "Marguerite"— Title . . . . 89/ 

It's Differante From Quiet Tams 92"'^ 

De Captaine of De "Marguerite"— Tailpiece 97 "• 

De Cirque at Ol' Ste. Anne—Title 98 i 

I'M Tak' Along My Julie Gairl 99 

T'row Kisses at You 103 

De Cirque at Ol' Ste. Anne— Tailpiece 106 

Tim Flanagan's Mistake— Title 107*' 

DAT Calf Stan' Still an' Wag Hees Tail 109 v^ 

'Long De Kankakee— Title 112V/^ 

It's Pretty Place to be Alone 113 v^ 

When Francois Joined De Lodge— Title 117 \/ 

I No Try Offend You 119 v'' 

To Stake Dey Mak' Me Boun' 123 ^ 

Dey Tak' De Blin'fol' Off From Me 127 -/ 

When Francois Joined De Lodge— Tailpiece 129 

De Gradual Commence— Title 130 



Illustrations — Continued 

Ma Leddle Daughter Madeline 131 "^ 

/ 

Ma Belle Adele— Title 136^/ 

She Ess Ver' Bu'ful ALa'moiselle 137 v 

To Adele Mak' Dem Goota.E Eyes 141 v 

Wen De Frogs Begin to Sing— Title 145 '^^ 

De Red Bud Ess all Fill Op Wid Bloom Ul-^ 

Wen De Frogs Begin to Sixt;— Tailpiece 149 n 

Oncl' Antoine on 'Change— Title 150 ^ 

De Board of Trade 151 v 

Anatole Dubois at De Horse Show— Title 156n 

Ve Go an' See Dat Show ValrJ 

Ladies Vit Fin' Drass . . , 161 •-/ 

Now I Haf Som' Vords to Tell 165 v 

Jean Peter Long— Title 167 ^ 

I'M ]Mak' Jardin 169 '^ 

Football at Chebanse — Title 173v 

Day Might Haf Called it "Gran' Prize Fight" .....,,. 175\/ 

He Don' Know Vere He Are 179 \l 



INTRODUCTION 

It will not be out of place here to give an outline of 
the history of the French-Canadian colony in Kankakee 
county, Illinois. 

Before 1835, where now stands the thriving city of 
Kankakee, the country thereabouts was a wilderness, 
inhabited by strolling tribes of Indians. Then venture- 
some French traders, cojirctirs dii bois, voyageiivs from 
lower Canada, came and bartered with the red men, 
bought land for a mere song, and on their return in- 
duced a number of their countrymen to come to the fer- 
tile valley of the Kankakee. The earliest of the pioneers 
settled in Bourbonnais Grove, where the first Catholic 
mission was started. 

In the early fifties, Pere Chiniquy, a priest of Mon- 
treal, came to join the colony. He liked the country, 
returned to Montreal and induced a great number of set- 
tlers to come to this land of promise. 

Chiniquy founded the town of Ste. Anne. The colony 
grew and prospered until Chiniquy seceded from the 
church of Rome. The colony today numbers about 
seven thousand. Bourbonnais, with its five hundred in- 
habitants, is the typical French settlement of the colony, 
with not a single American resident. Two splendid 
Catholic institutions, namely: St. Viateurs' College and 
Ste. Catherine's Convent are here. The towns of Mo- 



INTRODUCTION 

mence, St. George, Ste. Marie, Manteno, Papineau, 
L'Arable, Ste. Anne and the city of Kankakee all have 
a good percentage of French people. 

The town of Ste. Anne may be called the "Lourdes of 
America." Within the beautiful church is the shrine 
of Ste. Anne, and on the sacred altar reposes a finger 
bone of the sainted mother of Mary. Annually for 
eighteen years a "novens," or nine days' prayer, fol- 
lowed by a pilgrimage to this shrine, takes place; and 
thousands from all parts of Indiana and Illinois partici- 
pate in the religious ceremonies. Although the pilgrim- 
age was originally intended to make reparation for the 
schism of Pere Chiniquy, who deserted the church and 
placed that organization, for a time, in many unpleasant 
complications, yet here the lame, the sick, the distressed, 
with faith and prayer, seek consolation and surcease 
from their sorrow ; and many remarkable cures are re- 
corded. 

The ballads of Bourbonnais were written in the hope 
of preserving, if possible, the dialect of the Illinois 
French-Canadian. The author has entered into his task 
with feelings of the deepest respect and reverence for 
the sterling character and religious faith of these people, 
who are an honor to their adopted country and state. 

Thanks are due to the editors of the Century for per- 
mission to include in this volume "De Cirque at Ol' 
Ste. Anne," "De Captaine of de Marguerite" and "Foot 
Ball at Chebanse," which appeared first in that mag- 
azine. 



THE BALLADS OF BOURBONNAIS 




TIGHTING JOE" GOSSETTE 



W'EN stranger hear dat I am call 
De "Fighting Joe" Gossette, 
Dey t'ink dat I am rough bad man ; 

I'm not so bad, you bet ! 
It's com' about because I own 
Game roostere dat is fight, 
De reputation 'long dis line 
I haf, is out of sight. 

15 



FIGHTING JOE GOSSETTE 

T'ree year ago I'm fall on lof 

Wid El'anore Contois, 
Dat's leeve across de reevere, 

Clos' to farm of ol' Du Bois. 
Dar is wan nodder garqon, he 

Jomp on same cart wid me, — 
He's lof her all de hard he can ; 

His name is Clande Legris. 

For las' t'ree year he also own 

Game roostere dat is fight, 
He's t'ink he's gat de h'only wans ; 

He brag wid all his might. 
I see dat dere is ver' moch troub' 

On op ahead of us, 
Dere will be une gran' fight som' tam' 

Were wan of us go bus'. 

El'anore she is not show 

Favore to edder wan; 
But she is hear her fadder spe'k, 

Wen all is said an' done, 
De bes' farmere is wan dat raise 

Mor' hogs dan all de res' ; 
She say she lof de man de mos' 

Whose roostere fight de bes'. 
i6 




3 •& 




"fighting joe" gossette 



An' w'en we hear us all of dis 

We bot' sail in right dere 
An' breed our stock op to top notch, 

An' at all county fair, 
Som' tarn' he gat de bleu ribbone 

Som' tarn' it com' to me ; 
We're pretty even in de race 

As you can ver' plain see. 

Wan spring tam' I am raising op 

Wan fine brood of game chick, 
Dere's wan dem will, I'm sure, turn out 

To be ''une leddle brick." 
He's waltz aroun' an' boss de place 

De hull shoot match he rone. 
An' w'en I tink of propere name 

Call heem Napoleon. 

Dat is all right for leddle w'ile, 

Till he's grow'd op, an' den 
I'm fin' it out Napoleon 

Hees nodding but a hen. 
Dat day I mak' Napoleon 

To meet his Waterloo, 
I'm h'ring his neck, den modder he 

Is boil her in a stew. 
19 



FIGHTING JOE GOSSETTE 

But free dem chick is gentlemen, 

Of dat it's mighty plain, 
De're fin' gargon stan' straight, look quick, 

Fm sure dat gairl I'm gain, 
Wid Gen'ral Grant an' Boulanger, 

An' Ney, my birds Fm call, — 
I mak' Legris go back, sit down, 

I t'ink I beat dem all. 

De tam' is com' for fin' it whose 

Bird's better dan de res' ; 
Also de wan dat get dat gairl 

Dat we is loF de bes'. 
'Course you know to make game fight's 

Overe de law agains', 
We look out for de ol' Constab', 

De sloot houn' of Momence. 

We mak' arrange' for haf de main 

Down near ol' Bondreau's farm, — 
It is bes' place dat we can fin\ 

We t'ink we're free from harm. 
We dere alone, nobody else. 

But leddle John Frochette, 
He is to ac' as sentinale, 

An' ten cent he's to get. 
20 



"fighting joe" gossette 



It's den I tak' ol' Mar'chal Ney 

Out of his coop to fight, 
Legris match heem wid C?esar bird, 

Den dey start at it h'right. 
No common breed's in edder wan, 

Dey bot' are game, you bet ; 
De fedder rouge dey mak' 'em fly, 

Wid blood dey soon are wet. 

For ten minnettc dey keep it op, 

An' 'bout two minute mor' 
My Mar'chal Ney was fin' his deat', 

An' drop op on de floor : 
Dat's bad for me, but I was gat 

Two mor' good chance to win, 
I tak' my Boulanger, an' Claude 

He's Brutus to begin. 

Poor Boulanger he soon is learn, 

He's op against stiff game, 
I fin' it out lak' Mar'chal Ney, 

He's treated jus' de same. 
It's now a shot (houndred to wan), 

I'm on dis match go bus' ; 
I's look on Boulanger an' Ney, 

I feel ver' moch disgus'. 
23 



FIGHTING JOE GOSSETTE 

Jus' den cle sentinale he com' 

Mos' out of breadt' an' say 
De Constab' was a nosin' 'round 

An' headed down dis way. 
Legris's live bird he's grab dem op 

An' I my Gen'ral Grant, 
We gat it out of dere right soon, 

An' rone tih breadt' goes pant. 

An' on my way I mak' a spe'k, 

To Gen'ral Grant I say : 
''Or man, if you don' win dis tam' 

Der'll be via foi to pay : 
I'll lose de gairl dat I lof bes', 

I will be so moch 'shame,' 
I'll never look roostere in eye ; 

What's mor', I'll change my name. 

We gat on barn of Bissonette's, 

De fight wance mor' begin. 
An' better luck was com' to me, 

I haf wan chance to win. 
My GcuQralc he is wan trump. 

He Stan' op lak' a man. 
Fire on his eye, hees shes' t'row out, 

He has gat lots of san'. 
24 



"fighting joe" gossette 



Now w'en de Constab' com' firs' place, 

An' fin' we are not dere, 
Nodding but dead roostere on groun', 

He wan' to pull his hair ; 
For evidaunse he tak' de plumes 

Of Boulanger an' Ney 
An' steek dem 'roun' de ban' his hat, 

Mak' heemself veree gay. 

An' den he tak' de trail wance mor', 

For fin' if he can get 
A trace of dem dat's called Le.s^ris 
Lghting 



An' "Fighting Joe" Gossette ; 
He fin' us w'ere we mak' de fight, 

He watch t'roo leddle place 
Dat is too small to crawl it t'roo, 

But beeg enough for face. 

In wan roun' Grant feex Cato op. 

An' Brutus it's tak' two, 
An' den wid Caesar he's clos' in. 

My, how dem f edders flew ! 
An' wid une swoop my Generale, 

He's gaff strike C?esar's head, 
An' Caesar gat ver' moch dizee 

An' den he's tomble dead. 
27 



FIGHTING JOE GOSSETTE 

My roostere he's on top de heap, 

He s flap his wings an' crow, 
An' den som't'ing is happen it 

Almos' before I know. 
He see dose plumes dat's on de hat, 

De Constab' he is wear, 
An' flies right t'roo on de peek hole, 

Were Constab's hiding dere. 

My Generale he's gat fin' hoi' 

Opon de hat an' plume ; 
De Constab' rone an' jomp aroun' 

An' den he cuss an' fume ; 
I'm laflin' fit to mak' a kill, 

I'm hang myself on rail, 
Wen I see Constab' rone aroun' 

Wid Generale on trail. 

De Constab' nevere mak' complain' 

About dat chicken fight, 
He is so sham' he t'ink bes' t'ing 

Is keep it out of sight : 
An' w'en dey ask heem why his face 

Is swell op an' so red, 
He say beeg hornets' nes' is fall 

An' hit heem on de head. 
28 



"fighting joe" gossette 



Poor Claude Legris, he's mak' away, 

For Nort' Dakota State, 
Affer he fin' dat Gen'ral Grant 

Is put heem on de slate ; 
I's win my El'anore for wife, 

I's marry her, you bet ! 
An' now it's h'every man dat calls 

Me "Fighting Joe" Gossette, 




29 




OPIE READ 



(Toast delivered at banquet in honor of Mr, Opie Read 
at the Press Ckib of Chicago, May 2, 1902.) 



DIS lang-iiage Anglaise dat dey spe'k, 
On State of Illinois, 
Is hard for Frenchmen heem to learn, 

It give me moch annoy. 
Las' w'ek ma frien', McGovera;?^ 

He com' to me an' say, 
Yon mak' a toas' on Opie Read 
Wen dey geeve gran' banquayo 



OPIE READ 

I mak' a toas' ? Not on your life, 

Dat man's wan frien' of me; 
Wat for I warm heem op lak' toas' 

De reason I can't see. 
An' den John laugh out on hees eye 

Wen he is to me say : 
To mak' a toas' is not a roas' 

It's jus' de odder way. 

Dat's how I learn dat toas' an' roas' 

Is call by different name, 
Dough hot' are warm in dere o\\n wr 

Dere far from mean de same. 
An' so, ma. frien', in lof I clasp 

Your gr'ad beeg brawny han', 
An' share vit you in fellowship 

An' pay you on deman'. 

You're built opon a ver' large plan, 

Overe seex feet you rise ; 
You need it all to shelter in 

Your heart dat's double size. 
You are too broad for narrow t'ings. 

Too gr'ad for any creed; 
I'll eat de roas' but drink de toas' 

To ma frien', Opie Read. 
33 



RUBAIYAT OF MATHIEU LETTELLIER 



DERE'S six children in our fam'lee, 
Dey's mos'ly girls an' boys; 
'Toinette an' me wos t'ankful sure 

For all de happy joys ; 
Dere's Pierre, an' little Rosalie, 

Antoine, Marie an' Jeanne, 
An' Paul he's com' now soon twelf year, 
Mos' close to be a man. 
34 



RUBAIYAT OF MATHIEU LETTELIER 

I's lof all of /(/ petite feinine, 

De garcon mak' me proud, 
I haf gr'ad aspiratione 

For all dat little crowd ; 
My Pierre shall be wan doctor mans, 

Rosalie will teach school, 
Antoine an' Jeanne shall rone de farm, 

Marie som' man will rule. 

An' Paul shall be a cure sure, 

ril haf heem educate', 
I work it all out on my head. 

Oh, I am moch elate ; 
Dis all of course w'en dey grow op ; 

But I t'ink 'bout it now ; 
So w'en de tam' was com' for ac', 

I'll know de way an' how. 

Long tam' ago, w'en Paul firs' com'. 

He mak' a lot of noise ; 
He's keep me trot, bot' day an' night, 

He was wan naughty boys ; 
At wan o'clock, at two o'clock, 

Annee oV tam' suit heem, 
He's mak' us geeve de gran' parade 

Jus' as he tak' de w'im. 

37 



RUBAIYAT OF MATHIEU LETTELIER 

Sooding molass' an' peragork, 

On heem ve pour it down, 
An' soon he let his music op, 

An' don' ac' more lak' clown, 
An' den ma fcininc an' me lay down 

To get a little doze, 
For w'en you are wan fam'lee man 

Yon don' gat moch repose. 

But wat's de use to mak' de kick, 

Dees fellows boss de place; 
I'd radder hear de healt'y lung 

An' see de ruddy face 
Dan run a gr'ad big doctor's bill, 

An' geeve de ol' sextone 
De job, for bury all my kids. 

An' leave me all alone. 

An' so our hands is quite ver' full, 

Will be, for som' tam long. 
But ven old age is dreeft our vay 

An' rest is our belong, 
It's den ve'll miss de gran' r3.cqucffc, 

May want again de noise 
Of six more little children 

An' mos'ly girls an' boys. 

38 




VERRE DEFINITE 



IT' verre long, long tarn', ma frien', 
I'm leeve on Bourbonnais, 
I'm keep de gen'rale merchandise, 

I'm prom'nent man, dey say ; 
I'm sell mos' every t'ing dere ees, 

From sulky plow to sock, 
I don' care w'at you ask me for, 
You'll fin' it in my stock. 
39 



VERRE DEFINITE 

Las' w'ek dere was de petite Ulle 

Of ma frien', Gosse, he com' 
Into to ma shop to get siocking, 

She want to buy her som' ; 
She was herself not verre ol', 

Near twelve year, I suppose ; 
She com' to me an' say, "M'sieu, 

I wan' to buy som' hose." 

I always mak' de custom rule, 

No matter who it ees, 
To be polite an' eloquent 

In transack of ma beez ; 
I say to her, ''For who you wan' 

Dese stockings to be wear?" 
She say she need wan pair herself, 

Also for small bruddere. 

She say her bruddcre's eight years ol 

An' coming almos' nine. 
An' I am twelve, mos' near t'irteen, 

Dat size will do for mine : 
An' modder she will tak' beeg pair. 

She weigh 'bout half a ton, 
She wan' de size of forty year 

Going on forty-one. 
40 




MA LITTLE BROWN BABEE 



MA pretty brown Babee, wid eyes lak' de sea. 
Wen de sun kiss de top of de wave, 
Wa't for do you frolic so roguish wid me 
An' mak' such a fonney behave? 



Is it 'cause you are loving your papa so well 

You try to do jus' as he do ? 
O little brown Babee, spe'k op an' tell me, 

Can you say nodding else but "Ah, goo !" 
41 



MA LITTLE BROWN BABEE 

I know dat behin' dem dose little brown eye' 
Dere is soni't'ing you're wanting to say ; 

But wait little tarn' an' de words he will fly 
An' your lip will keep moving all day. 

O little brown Babee, de pride of my life, 
Wat will you be w'en you are grown? 

You'll help rone de farm an' gat you de wife 
All overe the county be known. 

I'd radder you stay where you are, via gargon, 
Jus' de little brown Babee to me, 

To nestle an' lof you t'roo all de day long, 
No joy com' so great dat I see. 

But de tam' he don' wait, he push along 'head. 

He mak' no except' out of you. 
It's hard for to t'ink dat som' day we'll be dead, 

It seem verree strange but it's true. 

So little brown Babee, com' clos' to ma breas' 
Were ma heart its beat strong wid my lof. 

An' sof'ly go sleeping an' tak' your good res' 

Wile de Angels dey watch from abof. 

42 




%-#'" 



MA LITTLE BROWN BABEE 

O Modeler of Jesus, watch overe heem, do ! 

Keep heem free from de sin an' de shame, 
Dat wordy he be wen he die, com' to you, 

Wid honeur to Thy holy name. 




; ^^?^%i.yy- 




45 




MON PIERRE 



IT is to-morrow morning dat 
I marry Pierre Minot : 
I wander if I mak' a dream, 

Or if it can't be so ; 
But still I see hees picture dere, 

It hang opon de wall ; 
He ees de bol' Pierre Minot, 
He's gat head of dem all. 

46 



MON PIERRE 

I nevere shall forget firs' tarn' 

I meet dat beeg garqon, 
I see h'right 'way opon my heart 

He seem to be moch gone ; 
I t'ink dat's veree bol' of heem, 

Of course I mak' resent, 
For heem to fall on lof wid me 

Before I am consent. 

But somehow here dese French boys, dey 

Hav' gat it on dere min' 
Dat dey can hav' de gairl dey wan' 

Wen dey can mak' de fin'. 
I say to me, myself I say, 

I'll geeve heem une lessone, 
ril mak' heem know not where he ees 

Or where he want to gone. 

I soon is see I gat ma man, 
He tak' me off wan side. 
He wan' to know if Sunday nex' 

I wid heem tak' a ride; 
I say to heem, ''Young Lettellier 

Was ask me do dat, too ; 
Fm verree sorry, M'sieu Pierre, 
I can not go w^id you." 
49 



MON PIERRE 

Dat was a story dat I tell 

About young Lettellier, 
But w'en Pierre meet heem on de road, 

I t'ink it was nex' day, 
He mak' present of two black eye, 

He tears hees hat in piece', 
He use heem op mos' mighty rough, 

Lettellier's wan beeg geese. 

An' den two weeks is pass away 

No wan is com' near me, 
Not even Pierre, who, I was sure. 

He could not let me be ; 
De boys dey all is drop me lak' 

Wan hot potato ball, 
I wander w'at dat all is mean 

An' w'at keep 'way dem all. 

An' w'en t'ree week is com' an' pass 

An' Sunday's here again, 
I'm gat to be a lonely gairl 

An' dis is happen den : 
I see a bran' new buggy com' 

Down road where we leeve at. 
It's drive by Pierre Minot, it ees, — ■ 
My heart go pit-a-pat. 
50 



MON PIERRE 

But w'at you t'ink was in ma min' 

Wen he go drivin' by 
An' not look h'right or to de lef 

But hoi' hees head so high ; 
An' den I stamp ma heel wid rage, 

I grin' beneat' my feet 
De rose I pick for heem to geeve — 

My heart turn col' lak' sleet. 

For years all of de gar con here 

Dey do jus' w'at / say — 
An' now dis bol' Pierre Minot, 

He wan' to ac' liccs w^ay; 
An' so I cry for long, long tam', 

Den look down by de gate 
An' op de padt walk Pierre Minot, 

De man I — almos' hate. 

He whistle tune — ''Apres dn Bal," 

An' ''High Born Lady," too, 
An' tip hees hat an' bow to me 

An' say ''How do you do? 
I not expec' to fin' you home, 

I t'ought you go away 
An' h'ride along each Sunday tam' 

Wid dat young Lettelier." 

51 



MON PIERRE 

He also say, ''I t'ought you had 

Mor' taste dan tak' a ride 
Wid man dat's gat t'ree four black eyes 

I t'ought I would decide 
To com' an' geeve you wan gran' spin 

'Way down cheniin public. 
Hein! Bientot you com' wid me, 

An' be about it quick." 

Wat's mor' to do I am not know, 

I'm almos' 'fraid refuse; 
He mak' me gat my hat an' com' ; 

To say ''no" is no use. 
He lif me op in de high seat, 

Unhitch an' jump in too, 
An' soon we mak' t'ree forty gait — 

My ! how dat horse he flew. 

De boggay he has got red wheels, 

De wheels she's rubber tire — 
An' w'en dey go spin down de road 

Dey seem lak' dere on fire ; 
I almos' t'ink if Pierre not hoi' 

Mos' clos' on tight to me, 
I w^ould be fri'ht ver' near to death, 

I's scare' as I can be. 
52 • 



^ 




H; 



M 



*i#f 



MON PIERRE 

But somehow w'en hees gr'ad beeg arm 

Was hoi' me roun' de wais', 
I don' gat w'ite som' mor' wid fear, 

But turn red on de face. 
Oh my, wid rage I'm mad wid heem, 

Wat could a poor gairl do. 
For hav' a man cut op lak' dat 

An' ac' lak' hees bran' new ? 

Den Pierre look op an' catch ma eye, 

An' w'en to me he say, 
''Rosalee, dear, w'at do you t'ink, 

Ees it not pretty day?" 
I say to heem de day's all right. 

But any fool would know 
All 'bout dat 'fore dey spe'k it out 

An' tell you 'bout it so. 

De twilight com', we're jogging 'long 

De road down I'Arable way, 
An' Pierre keep talking all de tam' 

I can't gat w^ord to say. 
He tell me dere is une fin' farm. 

How do you lak' de trees, 
Dat line de orchard on de lef 

For keep off nort' win' breeze ? 
55 



MON riERRE 

Dere is new house a building op, 

De roof is almos' done, 
I order dat for you an' me 

Wen you an' me are wan. 
An' den he smile on de same way ; 

I use to do dat, too, 
Wen I had garcon on de string 

An' keep dem in a stew. 

I try to gat away from heem, 

But Pierre gat tighter grip, 
An' den he talk mos' different 

As 'long de road we skip ; 
He say, ''Ma Rosalee, ma clicre/' 

In voice dat's sof an' low, 
I nevere heard so sweet a soun' 

As he is speek, dat so. 

"Ah, 111011 ami, can you not see 

I'm tre't you rough because 
Dat's only way to keep out reach 

Your pretty tiger claws." 
An' w'en he see de leddle tear 

He fol' me to hees breas' 
An' — -kiss me once, maybe t'ree tam'. 

An' smood me wid caress. 

56 



MON PIERRE 

An' den he ax w'en I marray 

An' nevere from heem part, 
An' den som't'ing jomp on my t'roat, 

I t'ink it was my heart ; 
I can not speak a word to heem, 

My face aU flush wid red, 
No better he is understan' 

If houndred word I said. 

It is to-morrow morning dat 

I marray Pierre Minot, 
I wander if I mak' a dream 

Or if it can be so. 
But still I see hees picture dere, 

It hang upon de wall ; 
He is mon Pierre I lof so well, 

He's bes' man of dem all. 



59 




DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU. 



YOU may talk about your fiddleur 
Dat play on concert hall. 
An' brag heem opon top de sky 

An' say he beat dem all ; 
But I hav' g-at into ma min' 
Wan chap, it seems to me, 
Was fines' fiddleur dat I hear 
In des Etats Unis. 
60 



DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU 

Wan tarn', about t'ree year ago, 

We all surprise wan day, 
For see opon de platform of 

De depot of railway, 
Two stranger dat is gat off train. 

It cause som' interes', 
Dey was a man an' leddle gairl 

An' bot' was poorly dress'. 

De man he has wan fiddle an' 

Mak' music roun' de town; 
La petite Ulle, she is collec' 

De streets all op and down ; 
She pretty t'ing, I t'ink not mor' 

Dan seex year, I suppose ; 
Her face was lak' de fleur-de-lis. 

Her lip lak' de pale rose. 

It's Christmas tarn' almos' about, 

Dey's com' to Papineau, 
Dere's plenty work for de fiddleur 

He fin' out soon to know ; 
Dere's ball an' partee h'every night. 

Need music for to play : 
In cottage Rousil'on dey go 

For leeve dere w'ile dey stay. 

63 



DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU 

An' w'en it's com' on Christmas Eve 

Dere's wan gran' ])ar dat ni^lit, 
All house show joy for coming- day, 

It vas wan pretty sight ; 
De toy shop an' de candy store 

Vit colenr dey're al)laze, 
De children on de window look, 

Dere eyes are moch amaze. 

De fiddleur an' hees leddle gairl — 

Dey walk about de street, 
De leddle gairl vit face so pinch, 

Mos' shy at all she meet ; 
But w'en she pas' de gread heeg store 

Were dey is keep de toy, 
Dere's leddle doll wid pretty dress, 

Dat geeve her de mos' joy. 

*'0 papa, you tell Santy Clans 

For heem to geeve to me 
De pretty doll wid yellow hair 

Dat's in de window, see." 
He stoop an' geeve de gairl a kiss 

An' tak' her by de han', 
An' he tell her as dey walk long 

Dat Santv understan'. 

64 



DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU 

Dere vas de bal' it ees tak' place 

An' gr'ad beeg crowd vas dere, 
Almos' as many people as 

Gat to county fair : 
De fiddleur he is play for dem, 

De gairl asleep she fah, 
An' soon she off in dreamy Ian', 

No care she has at all. 

Dey's mak' de intermission 

An' we all tak' a res', 
Dat fiddleur tune de violin 

x\n' geeve us som' hees bes' ; 
An' he is play dat fiddle, too, 

For all dat it is vordt. 
It seem to me de angels com' 

Mak' music on de eardt. 

De flower song from Marguerite 

Den Schubert's serenade, 
La Favorita's melodies 

An' popular roulade ; 
Wen I am leeve in ol' Kebec 

Dese operas all I hear, — 
It tak' me back to de ol' tam' 

Dat memory hoi' dear. 

67 



DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU 

At firs' it soun' right close to me, 

An' clen it gat so far 
Avay almos' op to de sky 

Were leeve de leddle star ; 
Den soon he mak' de tounder roar, 

De win' to sob an wail, 
Dere's fury an' all hell let loose 

In tempes' an' de gale. 

An' den before you know it, he 

Is tak' you down de lane ; 
You smell de lilac blooming an' 

You t'ink it's spring again. 
An' w'en it sof'ly die away 

Into a sad, sweet sigh. 
It's lak' de song your modder sing 

W'en she hum lullaby. 

Aprcs du bal de fiddleur man 

He wak' hees leddle chile, 
An' w'en her eyes are open op 

Her face is all on smile. 
For Santy Claus was bring de doll 

She lak' so veree well ; 
De leddle gairl she hug it clos', 

So happy none can tell. 
68 



DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU 

De blizzard dat ees happen, it 

De vorse we evere know, 
Vas on dis night I tell about ; 

Dere's mos' four feet of snow 
Already down was fallen it 

An' still it snowed som' mor', 
De nor'eas' win' was howling lak' 

It nevere howl' before. 

Dey hot' went out into dat storm, 

De win' bite to de bone, 
Rousil'on cottage stan' to wes' — 

'Cross prairee Ian' alone; 
Dey mak' dere way as bes' dey could. 

An' how, none of us know, 
Dat night dey's perish wid de col' 

Out in de win' an' snow. 

Two days is pas' before dat storm 

Gat quiet an' go 'way, 
Dere's rumor dat som' lives is los' 

Is w'at de people say ; 
Dere's searching posse is start out 

For see if ve can fin' 
A trace of dem dat lose demselves 

Or any kin' of sign. 

71 



DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU 

Ve're clos' by Rousiron cottage 

Wen som't'ing catch our eye, 
De corner of an overcoat, 

An' den right nex' it by 
Is leddle shawl steck out from top 

De snow dat ees dere lay 
Along de fence an' mak' beeg drif 

Opon de gran' highway. 

Ve all know soon as we have see 

Who ees in ondere dere ; 

Vit tender ban's ve tak' dem out 

Into de morning air ; 
De fiddleur hoi' de leddle gairl 

Mos' tight clos' to bees heart, 
We leave dem bot' togedder so. 

An' tak' dem not apart. 

De snow it was all meex op t'roo 

Her head of yellow hair 
An' on de sunlight mak' de spark 

Lak' di'mon in de air. 
De leddle dolly she was hoi' 

Clos' to her col' dead breas' 
Were she lay down to tak' long sleep 

In Ian' of perfect res'. 
72 



DE FIDDLEUR OF PAPINEAU 

An' on de hill 'way overe dere, 

In single grave, we lay 
Dem two to res' for de long tarn' 

Ontil de judgment day. 
Dere's story in de life of dem 

Dat we will nevere know; 
De hillside hoi' de secret of 

Fiddleur of Papineau. 




75 




DE BACHELEUR OF BOURBONNAIS 



" I cried unto God, He gave ear unto me." 

— 77th Psalm. 



HE vas a mos' strange man, I t'ink, 
I don't care w'at yon say ; 
For years he live all by heemself, 
T'ree mile from Bourbonnais, 
Ontil wan Easter tam' we see 

Heem com' into de town, 
He's drass op in new suit of close, 
De coleur's mos'ly browno 

76 



I 




DE BACHELEUR OF BOURBONNAIS 

He's drave a fine young trotter nag, 

New boggay, w'eels all h'red, 
Wit' nice sofah, mos' comfortab', 

Sit high opon de bed. 
De morning it was beautiful, 

De sun it shine an' blaze, 
Overe de eardt, mak' all heart glad. 

It was wan pretty days. 

De hVed w'eel on dat boggay 

Day dance w'en day go roun', 
An' Fileon LaCouer he drave 

Fas', straight on t'roo de town, 
Ve're vonder why de Bacheleur 

Of Bourbonnais's feex so, 
It's com' now torty year or mor' 

Vit femme he'd never go. 

Lanctot, de tailor man, look wise, 

He is wan historee, 
He's know all 'bout it, everyt'ing 

Dat's done on Bourbonnais; 
He has a twinkle on his eye 

Dat we is know ver' well, 
He's gat wan storee op his sleeve 

Wat we is want him tell. 
79 



DE BACHELEUR OF BOURBONNAIS 

Lanctot, speak him, ''In early tarn', 

Wen country's young an' new, 
De Ian' wos nodding hereabout, 

But mos'ly swamp an' sloo; 
He's quite a beau, dis Bacheleur, 

It's lof he's den fall in 
Wit' M'sieu' Carot's oldes' fille, 

Her firs' name's Josephine. 

"He's almos' craze' wit' lof for her, 

But Josie's gat more string 
Onto her bow ; she haf som' fone, 

She does not do wan t'ing, 
To four or fiv' de bol' gargon 

Dat's follow her aroun' ; 
She geeve dem all de lively chase, 

It's talk of de hull town. 

"But Fil'on de Bacheleur 

Wit' her he is not flirt, 
He's in it for de real heezneesc; 

If he's wan piece of dirt 
She could not meaner treat heem. 

She's fool heem h'right along. 
She's mak' heem lead wan lively dance. 

She t'ink she do no wrong. 
80 



DE BACHELEUR OF BOURBONNAIS 

'It's all made op dat dey marray, 

Dey's 'range an' set de day, 
But w'en it's com' for wedding tam' 

Dat gairl's she's rone avay. 
She's go overe to Kankakee, 

Dere meet Philipe Angot, 
She's marray heem an' go for leeve 

On town of Papineau. 

'Poor Fileon, he is so crush' 

Dat he can't soon forget 
Dere's pass a veree long, long tam' ; 

He still remember yet, 
He's nevere com' to mak' confess'. 

He's nevere com' to mass, 
It's all alone by hees ownself 

He mak' de tam' go pas'. 

'It's not tak' long for Josephine 

She find she mak' faux pas 
Her man he soon is take to drink, 

He ees not w^ordt wan straw ; 
An' w'en wan day, dey's bring heem home, 

He's killed in drunken brawl, 
Dis crush de proud of Josephine, 

It's tak' avay it all. 

83 



DE BACHELEUR OF BOURBONNAIS 

''She den com' back to fadder's lioiise, 

Leeve dere ontil he's died. 
An' w'en her modder's go las' March, 

Join him on odder side, 
It's den she's hve it all alone, 

She's t'ink of long tam' 'go, 
She's sure she ees punish' enough 

For treat poor Fil'on so. 

"Ash Vendesday las' Fil'on he com' 

Into my shop an' say, 
'You com' wit me to presbytere 

For talk wit de cure,' 
An' Fileon he speak it dere, 

'My frien's, I t'ink you know 
Wat's happen it to me wan tam' 

Back torty year ago. 

*You blame me moch for keep avay 

From confess' an' de mass; 
Dey call me infidel, som' tam' 

Shake heads ven I am pass ; 
For torty years, my Fadder, 

Ev'ree day my beads I'm tell, 
I mak' appeal to Him on high, 

Mon Dieu, He know dat well. 
84 



DE BACHELEUR OF BOURBONNAIS 

" 'Long tarn' I say deep in nioii cocur 

Dat nevere I'll forgeeve 
Dat gairl for wat she's done by me 

So long as I am leeve ; 
But many days I speak de prayer, 

Mon Dieu ! O geeve to me 
De power to forgeeve dat gairl, 

De light, O let me see. 

" 'Wen fadder an' her modder died, 

Dat's strike my heart ver' near, 
It ees firs' tarn' for many day 

I'm shed wan little tear. 
An' den I t'ink w'at say de Psalm, 

You look an' you will see : 
"I mak' appeal unto mon Dieu, 

He gave ear unto me." 

" 'I say dat overe to myself 

It mak' impress' on me, 
It show de way I can forgeeve, 

De troot it mak' me see; 
I have been man vit hardened heart, 

I'll go to de cure, 
An' ask heem tak' a word for me 

To her dis veree day. 

87 



DE BACHELEUR OF BOURBONNAIS 

' 'Go tell her, holy Fadder , dat 
De pas' is pas' an' dead, 
An' dat I am forgeeve her/ 

FiFon to cure said ; 
'Say dat de year, dey haf been long^ 

But nevere was a day 
I try not overlook it all 
Since she is go away.' 

"De cure, he is speak heem, 

'I'll go, my Fileon, 
An' tell it all to Josephine ; 

You've suffer moch, my son; 
She'll welcom' all de news I bring, 

Moch joy to her vill geeve, 
I t'ink vill be de happies' day 

Dat evere she is leeve.' 

"An' so you know de reason why 

De Bacheleur he go 
To gat his old sweetheart wance more. 

His Josephine Carot ; 
For see ! dere coming down de road, 

De horse hoi' high bees head ; 
It's Easter tarn' an' lof wance los' 

Is risen from de dead !" 




DE CAPTAINE OF DE ''MARGUERITE' 



YOU vant to know who 'tis I am? 
You're stranger man, I see ; 
I don' min' tell to you som't'ing 

Concern' de life of me. 
My fadder's com' from Canadaw, 

'Long vit Pere Chiniquy, 
'Vay in de early fifty year, 

To Ian' of libertee. 
An' I am born here on de State, 

An' rose soon high to 1)e 
De captaine of de Marguerite, 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 

89 



DE CAPTAINS OF DE 

De people all is know me here. 

Veil I vent down de street, 
Vit moch respec' dey's bow at me, 

Venever dem I meet. 
De ladies call me ''Captaine," 

De men is call me ''Cap" ; 
De childern overe de hull place 

Dey's mos'ly call me 'Tap" ; 
I'm ''caractere ptiblic/' dey say, 

Vatever dat may be, 
I'm captaine of de Marguerite, 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 

An' ven de var is outbreak 

In de spring of nanty-ate, 
I grow so patriotique, 

An' I am so moch elate 
To haf ' de chance to go to front ; 

I vill be brave, bold man. 
An' fight the Spanish grandee : 

But I'll fight not on de Ian'. 
I go opon de gentlemen 

Of var, I say to me, 
I'm captaine of de Marguerite 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 
90 



DE CAPTAINE OF DE MARGUERITE 

An' den I put de Marguerite 

In dry dock for avile ; 
I gat me to Chicago town, 

My face is all on smile; 
Dey mak' recruit for navee dere, 

For seamen advertise ; 
De officere he's dress lak' doode, 

Say I's mos' undersize. 
''V^at experance it is you haf, 

My man?" he say to me. 
Den I tol' him 'bout de Marguerite 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 

An' ven he hear me all of dis 

He mak' de gran' salute, 
An' say he vill accept me — 

Mighty glad of dat to boot. 
Ven Messieu' Schley an' Sampson, 

De bossmen of de fleet, 
Vas know I join de navee 

Vill mos' tak' dem off dere feet. 
All of dis talk I hear I t'ink 

Is gratify to me. 
As captaine of de Marguerite 

Dat sail de Kankakee„ 
91 



DE CAPTAINE OF DE 

An' veil ve're down on blockadCj 

Off Cienfuegos Bay, 
I's man de boat dat cut de line 

Of cable vire dat day; 
De bullets dey com' t'ick an' fas'. 

An' deat' he's com' dere, too, 
An' in dat hell of fire an' smoke 

Vas awful how-de-do. 
It's (MffQvante from quiet tam's 

Dan ven I go to sea, — 
I's captaine of de Marguerite 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 

An' in dat Santiago fight 

I's cut op quite a dash ; 
Fs on de Gloucester steamboat 

Dat is smash dem all to smash, 
Ve's mak' 'em scat like grasshoppear, 

Vit shell ve's mak' 'em bus', 
De Brooklyn an' de Texas vere 

Not in it at all wit' us ! 
I's man behin' de gun, I's pull 

De trigger, don' you see? 
Galant captaine of de Marguerite 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 
92 



DE CAPTAINE OF DE ^MARGUERITE'' 

An' ven de var is overe 

I gat honorab' discharge, 
I t'inks I now haf tarn' to t'ink 

Of Rosalie LaFarge ; 
Dat gairl she's twice refuse me vonce, 

But now dat I'm hero 
She'll t'ink about it two-tVee tarn' 

Before she let me go. 
She's glad I no mak' bait for shark 

Dat swim opon de sea, 
But still captaine of de Marguerite 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 

At home dey meet me wit' brass-ban', 

Sky rocket an' flambeau ; 
Dey turn de town upside overe, 

At me de rose dey t'row ; 
I's ride in state to Cite Hall, 

To me dey mak' a speak, 
I try to mak' von, too, but I 

Gat mix op an' I steek ; 
I's talk about de country dat I save 

An' 'bout de flag, 
An' den I sit me down again, 

For me I don' lak' brag : 
95 



DE CAPTAINE OF DE '^MARGUERITE' 

It's not become de hero man 
To talk an' speak so free, 

Nor the captaine of de Marguerite 
Dat sail de Kankakee. 



An' den dere vas de gran' banquay, 

To honneur me dey geeve, 
De maire an' all de council here 

In Kankakee dat leeve. 
Dey mak' a toas', I give von back ; 

Ve haf som' jollie fone ; 
An' den ve sing an' laugh an' shout, 

Den de hull place ve ron ; 
Dey's fill me op vit cognac 

Till again Ts on de sea, 
Formere captaine of de Marguerite 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 



An' now I'm com' back from de var, 

I t'ink I's rose op high. 
If I keep on a-goin' op 

I'll gat op to de sky. 
Dey say I vas premiere factor 

In fight opon de sea, 

96 



An' now ven I go down de street 

Here's vat dey say at me : 
De ladies call me ''Admiral," 

De men is call me ''Ad," 
De children overe de hull place 

Dey's lov' to call me "Dad." 
You see, from caractere public_, 

I am exalt' to be, 
De Admiral Gran' of de hull fleet 

Dat sail de Kankakee. 





DE CIRQUE AT OL' STK ANNE 



I'M ride overe from Paplneau, 
Premier-classe cirque for see, 
Dat's advertise for com' Ste. Anne 

An' mak' som' fun vid me. 
I'm tak' along my Julie gairl, 

I'm gat her on de way, 
Wre off for have une jolie tam'^ 
A full all holiday. 
98 




L.ofa 



DE CIRQUE AT OL' STE. ANNE 

Ve see de animal so vil', 

Gran' lion in de cage, 
He's valk it op an' down aroun' 

Lak' he vas in a rage. 
Regardes monkey an' giraffe 

Vit neck so long an' slim, 
You's almos' need a telephone 

To say "hello'' at him. 

Beeg crowd was all de cage aroun' 

For see w'at dey could see, 
Dey wan' to gat dere money's wort', 

Mos' squeeze de life off me : 
We see de zebra ; den I t'ink 

Wil' man from Borneo, 
An' w'en we gat t'roo dat moch dcic 

Into beeg tent we go. 

I'm buy pop-corn, also peanut, 

Donnay to my Julie ; 
Ve's eat it all togedder op, 

Oh my, we have une spree ! 
Nex' t'ing ve sat in hippodrome, 

In deux grand reserve seat — 
I pay ten cent extray for dem ; 

For view dey can't be beat. 

lOI 



DE CIRQUE AT OL STE. ANNE 

So moch for see dat's goin' on, 

I'm gat all mix op yet ; 
It's all so good I can't mak' out 

Jus' w'ere ma eyes for set. 
Beeg man vas op on high trapeze, 

An' pretty lady — Oo ! 
She's hang by teeth an' hair ; by gar ! 

T'row kisses at you, too! 

An' w'en my eyes light on dat gairl, 

Julie vas gat jealous; 
She mak' de lips go poutin', so 

Vid rage she nearly bus' ; 
An' den I tak' her sof w'ite han' 

An' hold it gentle so, 
An' try to feex it up all h'right, 

But fin' it quite hard go. 

Julie vas feel moch better 

Ven dat lady go avay, 
She laugh vid me at funny clown, 

At all de t'ings he say. 
Mos' excentrique come elephan', 

Stan' right out on his head, 
An' den he lay upon de groun', 

Preten' dat she is dead. 

102 



DE CIRQUE AT OL' STE. ANNE 

De acrobat he's tumble roun' 

All overe de whole place ; 
De ring man shout an' crack his whip 

At horses in de race. 
Den ve take in de concert grand, 

An' lak' dat might' vel, too, 
An' w'en ve see de peoples go, 

Ve know dat show vas t'roo. 

An' when I'm takin' Julie home — 

Dat night de moon vas shine — 
I'm mak' it to her mighty plain, 

I'm ax for her be mine ; 
But Julie say she very 'fraid, 

I'm lof Ma'm'selle Trapeese, 
Because she grand an' t'row de kiss 

(I'm no like Julie tease). 

An' so I up an' tole her 

Dat I lof jus' her onlee. 
Her cheeks dey blush de colour rouge^ 

Her eyes flash lak' de sea, 
Her lips vas lak' de grand sunset, 

I can no' long' keep 'vay — 
I'm mak' de smack right on de spot. 

Oh, vat a holiday ! 
105 



DE CIRQUE AT OL' STE. ANNE 

I'm mak' de marry quite ver' soon, 
An' now you understan' 

Pourqiioi I take my Julie gairl 
Pour cirque at Ol' Ste. Anne. 



0"- 




m 



1 06 




\\\w 



TIM FLANAGAN'S MISTAKE 



DAT Irishman named Flanagan, 
He's often joke wid me, 
He leeve here now nios' twanty year, 

Ver' close to Kankakee ; 
I always look for chance to gat 

An' even op wid heem, 
But he's too smart, exception wance, 
Dis Irishman named Tim. 
107 



TIM FLANAGAN S MISTAKE 

Wan Sunday tarn' I'm walking out 

I meet Tim on de knoll, 
We bot' are hav' a promenade 

An' mak' a leddle stroll ; 
We look down from de top of hill, 

An' on de reevere's edge 
Is w'at you call a heifer calf, — 

He Stan' dere by de hedge. 

Dat calf Stan' still an' wag hees tail 

On eas' an' den w^s' side, 
An' den he wag it to de sout' 

For whip flies off hees hide ; 
I say to Tim dat heifer calf 

Dat Stan' so quiet still, 
You can not push him on de stream ; 

He say, "By gosh, I will." 

An' den he grin an' smile out loud, 

He fall opon de groun'. 
An' den he laugh wance mor' again 

An' roll de place aroun' : 
He say, 'twill be a ver' good joke 

Opon dat heifer calf. 
An' wance mor' he start op h'right quick 

An' mak' de beeg horse laugh. 
io8 



Says Tim, ^'You watch me now, ma frien', 

I'll geeve dat calf wan scare, 
I will rone down an' push him quick 

On Kankakee Reevere." 
An' he laugh out a beeg lot mor', 

Den he t'row off hees hat, 
An' start down hill two forty gait, 

He fly as swif as bat. 

Dat calf he stan' an' wag hees tail 

For 'bout two tVee tam' mor' ; 
Wen Tim com' ronnin' down de hill 

She move two yard down shore ; 
But Tim now com' lak' cannon ball. 

He can't turn right nor lef, 
He miss de calf an' den, by gosh ! 

Fall on reevere himse'f. 

Dose Sunday close dat Tim had on 

He wet dem t'roo an' t'roo, 
An' w'en he pick himse'f op slow 

An' walk heem out de sloo, 
He say, "Dat's good I mak' a laugh 

Before I tak' dat fall ; 
I laugh not den, I hav' no fone 

Out of dis t'ing at all." 
Ill 




'LONG DE KANKAKEE 



IT'S pretty place to be alone 
Wen evening shade is here, 
De sun fall low behin' de tree 

In summer tam' of year ; 
De reevere drif lazee along 

Were lush grasse grow so rank, 
I hear de cow-bell tinkling low 
On nodder side of bank. 

112 



#^ 



B*- 



^^*^: 




'i^M 



'long DE KANKAKEE 

My eyes she ees not close to all 

Dat ees me now before ; 
I lof de eardt w'ere here I am, 

De sky w'ere eagle soar; 
I lof all tree w'en leaf ees green, 

De groun' dat's dot wid bloom 
Of harebell, violet so shy 

Fill air wid dey're perfume. 

Along de reevere Kankakee 

For forty year or more 
I fin' a home for me an' femme 

Opon de timber shore. 
We're young den wance, we bot' is com' 

From Kebeck far away, 
An' settle here opon de State, 

An' here we long tam' stay. 

An' off to soudt for 'bout ten mile 

Was mos'ly swamp an' sloo. 
It's covere wid de tall green grass, 

Bullrush, an' cattail, too. 
De same place now is wavin' wid 

De corn, de wheat an' rye. 
An' w'ere de bittern wance tak' wing 

De crow he now is fly. 
115 



LONG DE KANKAKEE 

De wir grape trail overe de tree, 

An' w'en I smell de bloom 
It's lak' de glass of vin du pays, 

So reech was de perfume. 
W'en sun he com' down to de wes' 

An' revere smood lak' floor, 
He mak' de purple shadows dere, 

It look lak' cJieinin d'or. 

De robin an' de gray catbird 

An' thrush she mak' a sing, 
An' w'en de sun sink out of sight 

De Angelus he ring ; 
Den I walk home to small cabane, 

Were dose leeve I am lof, 
De night is com' an' star he shine 

From heaven op abof. 



ii6 




WHEN FRANCOIS JOINED DE LODGE 



I AM leeve here for long, long tarn', 
In County Kankakee, 
I'm tell som't'ing dat wance on while 

Was happen it to me; 
'Bout t'ree year 'go ma ver' clos' frien'^ 

LaMoille, from Ol' Ste. Anne, 
He ask me join de "keep still lodge" 
An' be a "Wooden Man." 

117 



WHEN FRANCOIS JOINED DE LODGE 

Dat mak' me veree mad at firs', 

To t'ink he wan' me for 
To be dat Ind'yan Wood Man 

Dat Stan' on front hees store, 
So peop' is know de place to gat 

Segare, tobac' an' snuff; 
I'm t'ink he wan' to insult me, 

Dat's treatment veree rough. 

*^Ah no! ma frien','' said LaMoille den, 

*T no try offend you, 
Dis Wooden Man's societ^^. 

An' w'en you go it t'roo 
You know a lot of t'ings, by gosh ! 

Dat no one else is know." 
He wan' me join myself to dem 

An' t'roo de lodge to go. 

So here's de chance I wan' long tarn', 

I'm join societee, 
Mak' gran' entrance to "four houndred, 

I'm gat in papier, see ; 
Den M'sieu Pierpont Morgan he 

Will haf to set w^ay down 
Into de mos' far backes' seat 

W^'en I com' to hees town. 
ii8 



WHEN FRANCOIS JOINED DE LODGE 

Ver' soon it ees all noise aroun' 

Dey mak' me ''man of wood" ; 
Dey all tak' so moch interes', 

I'm lak' dat veree good : 
LaMoille he say, on T'ursday night, 

Affer dey tak' de vote, 
Dat if I pass t'roo dat moch dere 

Dey'll h'ride me on de goat. 

Dat's mak' me mad wance mor' again, 

Dey'll not do dat to me ! 
Ride me on goat, no, no, by gosh ! 

I jus' would lak' to see; 
But LaMoille say, 'Trangois, dat mean 

In Francais initier, 
You ride de goat means 'tak' you in,' 

Is w'at de Anglais say." 

De night is com' I'm fin' it out 

I'm all right to belong. 
An' den dey mak' me blin'fol' tight, 

An' w'en dey ring beeg gong, 
Dey's som' wan say ''Dere off," jus' lak' 

Dere on de horse-race track; 
An' den almos' before I know 

Dey t'row me on ma back. 

121 



WHEN FRANCOIS JOINED DE LODGE 

I nevere been t'roo trash'-machine, 

But now I imderstan' 
It mak' no difference for do dat 

Dan be a Wooden Man. 
Dey didn't do wan t'ing to me, 

Dey geeve me course of sprout, 
Dey turn me opside down t'ree tam', 

An' two tam' inside out. 

It's lak' de football game dey play 

If I was been de ball ; 
Dey t'row me roun' from right to lef 

Mos' overe de hull hall ; 
An' den dey t'row me bac' again, 

Dey turn me roun' an' roun'. 
An' yell out loud lak' Ind'yan — 

To stake dey mak' me boun'. 

An' w'en dey buil' de beeg bonfire. 

To deat' I'm almos' scare, 
I wander how it all will end 

Wile I am standing dere ; 
An' den dere was de beeg explode, 

I ver' near faint away, 
An' almos' t'ink it was de tam' 

For be de judgment day. 

122 



WHEN FRANCOIS JOINED DE LODGE 

xA.n' den som' wan he save ma life, 

He mak' unboun' de rope, 
An' w'en dey put it on ma moudt 

A handful of sof ' soap ; 
I wander w'at is happen nex', 

I'm expect annee t'ing; 
Dey tak' de blin'foF off from me, 

De bell wance mor' he rinof. 

I look aroun', I see dere dress 

In clothes conrcur du hois — 
Of dem Fve heard ma fadder spe'k, 

Dey leeve in Canadaw. 
Dey hav' beeg ax dey hoi' in hand', 

Dey circle 'roun' me dere 
Lak' merry-go-aroun' you see 

At h'every county fair. 

Dey all is stop at word from chief, 

Den he is to me say : 
'TrauQois is nearly brudder now," 

In de mos' solemn way. 
^'Here tak' de ax," he say wance mor', 

"An' see if you ees know 
Bes' way for out of trouble gat 

As t'roo de worl' you go." 
125 



WHEN FRANCOIS JOINED DE LODGE 

It's not tak' long to show clem w'en 

I start dat ax to work, 
Dere's five crack head in t'ree second, 

I'm hit dem down lak' Turk ; 
I'm swing dat ax so rapid quick 

Dat no wan com' near me, 
An' den I knock de door in piece 

An' gat myself out free. 

LaMoille he fin' me de nex' day, 

He say he onderstan' 
Wat for I do de lodge lak' dat. 

Cause I no comprehen' ; 
He say no joke on you dey play, 

All dose t'ings dat dey do 
Was in de symbol language spe'k 

Dat dey was show to you. 

W'y not dey spe'k w'at I com'pren\ 

Not symbol but Frangais, 
Or w'at dey talk it here on state 

De language of Anglais? 
W'en dey wan' you for "man of wood' 

Dat means societee, 
An' ride de goat means 'Vlo you op," 

From all dat I can see. 
126 



WHEN FRANCOIS JOINED DE LODGE 

I gat SO h'all meex op, by gosh, 

I don' know w'at to do, 
So many t'ings mean som't'ing else 

I can' tell which from who; 
I gat along O K, an' den 

My Anglais it's go smash, 
Jus' w'en I t'ink I haf t'ings h'right 

My soup gets in de hash. 




129 




DE GRADUAL COMMENCE 



OUI, Oui, M'sieu, I'm mos' happee, 
My dies' wid proud expan'^ 
I feel de bes' I evere feel, 

An' over all dis Ian' 
Dere's none set op so moch as me ; 

You'll know w'en I am say 
My leddle daughter Madeline 
Is gradual to-day. 
130 







% 



DE GRADUAL COMMENCE 

She is de ver' mos' smartes' gairl 

Dat I am evere know, 
I'm fin' dis out, de teacher, he 

Is tol' me dat is so ; 
She is so smart dat she say t'ings 

I am no understan', 
She is know more dan any one 

Dat leeve on ol' Ste. Anne. 

De Gradual Commence is hoi' 

Down at de gr'ad beeg hall, 
Were plaintee peopl' can gat seat 

For dem to see it all. 
De School Board wid dere president, 

Dey sit opon front row, 
Dey look so stiff an' dignify, 

For w'at I am not know. 

De classe dat mak' de '^gradual" 

Dey're on de stage, you see. 
In semi-cirque dat face de peop', 

Some scare as dey can be ; 
Den wan of dem dey all mak' spe'k, 

Affer de nodder's t'roo, 
Dis tak' dem 'bout t'ree hour an' half 

De hull t'ing for to do. 
133 



DE GRADUAL COMMENCE 

Ma Madeline she is all feex op, 

Mos' beautiful to see, 
In nice w'ite drass, my wife he buy 

Overe to Kankakee. 
An' when she rise to mak' de spe'k 

How smart she look on face, 
Dey all expec' something dey hear, 

Dere's hush fall on de place. 

She tell us how to mak' de leeve, 

How raise beeg familee ; 
She tell it all so smood an' plain 

Dat you can't help but see ; 
An' how she learn her all of dat 

Ees more dan 1 can say, 
But she is know it, for she talk 

In smartes' kind of way. 

Wen all is t'roo de president 

De sheepskin he geeve 'way; 
Dey' re all nice print opon dem, 

An' dis is w'at dey say: 
"To dem dat is concern' wid dese 

Fr escnts you onderstan' 
De h'owner dese ; is gradual 

At High School on Ste„ Anne/' 
134 



DE GRADUAL COMMENCE 

An' now dat she is gradual 

She ees know all about 
De world an' how to mak' it run 

From inside to de out ; 
For dis is one de primere t'ings 

Wat she is learn, you see, 
Dat long beeg word I can pronounce, 

It's call philosophee. 

An' you can' blame me if I am 

Ver' proud an' puff op so. 
To hav' a daughter like dis wan 

Dat's everyt'ing she know. 
No wonder dat I gat beeg head^ 

My hat's too small, dey say — = 
Ma leddle daughter Madeline 

Is gradual to-day. 



135 




MA BELLE ADELE 



DE tarn' I t'ink I lof de mos* 
An' vat I lak' to tell, 
I go me to de leddle house, 
Vere liv' nm belle Adele, 
She ees ver' bn'ful ma'moiselle, 
Vit, O, such beeg blue eyes, 
Dat put you on a tremble ven 
Dey gat you by surprisCo 
136 



MA BELLE ADELE 

I haf chase all my rivale 

Vid a poniard an' a gun, 
Avay from off de prarie Ian' 

On fastes' kin' of run. 
Wen I am going wid a gairl 

I am not lak' to play 
De second fiddle, — no, not me, 

I'm not mak' lof dat way. 

Dere's real estate man from Watseek 

Mak' sweet aroun' Adele, 
He's gat all kin' of troub' from me, 

You bet, now let me tell ; 
He's write a note for her to meet 

Heem, w'en it ees Ic soir; 
I happen dere before she ees 

An' pay heem my devoir. 

An' dis is how I feex heem op, 

Wan, two, t'ree, four black eye. 
Wan bloody nose an' bruise on cheek. 

O my, I mak' heem sigh ! 
An' den I t'ro heem on de mud, 

Mak' heem look lak' black bear. 
An' dat w'ite suit dat he had on 

No more I t'ink he'll wear„ 

139 



MA BELLE ADELE 

It's done so quick he hardly know 

If it was fas' express 
Or trash machine dat do heem op 

In such an h 'awful mess ; 
An' w'en he gat back to Watseek 

He haf, I onderstan', 
Some real estate he sell ver' cheap 

Dat com' from ol' Ste. Anne. 

Dat drummer man from Cincinnat', 

He's t'ink heem mighty smart, 
To Adele mak' dem google eyes 

An' try for steal her heart ; 
But eyes dat I vos geeve to heem 

Look mor' lak' rouge et noir, 
He see wan, two, t'ree, four, five star. 

Jus' lak' it vos le soir. 

It tak' some tam' to win dat gairl, 

At firs' she vera shy, 
I almos' t'ink she fool vit me. 

But somet'ing on her eye 
Vos' tol' me more dan vord can tell 

I'm on de track inside ; 
But dis I keep all to myself. 

An' w'en I tak' her ride 
140 



MA BELLE ADELE 

I mak* preten' it's mad I am, 

An' den I watch de fun, 
Adele at firs' she mak' de balk 

An' not ver' smood she run ; 
But ven I say I lak' dat gairl 

Dat leeve on Papineau, 
Poor Adele's eyes dey melt in tears 

Dat I should treat her so. 

Von Sunday t3.m' a prcs midi 

De sun com' mos'ly down, 
De evening shade vos dreeft across 

De prairie Ian' so brown ; 
I's go overe to Adele's house 

To see de gairl I lof, 
De birds dey sing de vesper song, 

De sky vos clear abof. 

I tak' her to de orchard vere 

De bloom opon de trees 
Vos mak' de air so heavy 

Dat dere is not any breeze ; 
An' dere opon de bench rustique, 
Down by de reevere shore, 
I tell her 'gan I lof her once, 

An' den two t'ree tam' more. 
143 



MA BELLE ADELE 

De reevere it vos stretch avay 

Lak line ribbone Targent, 
Far off to eas' an' far to wes', 

Pas' farm of Pere Laurent. 
I say : "Ma chere, ma belle Adele, 

Will you not marray me?" 
An' den she turn bot' pink an' w'ite, 

Look pretty as can be. 

She can not spe'k a little word, 

Dere's sof look on her eye, 
I can' tell if it is for joy, 

Or if she want to cry. 
My arm go slow, it soon reach roun' 

Her pretty slender wais', 
I feel de beating of her heart, 

De warm breat' on my face. 

It's den I sip de nectar off 

De cup of Adele's lips ; 
Now w'en I drink de Vin Bordeaux 

It tas' lak' so moch chips ; 
I t'ink dat all on eardt' is change' 

Since she ees tell to me 
She lof me mor' dan de 'hole worF^ 

An' dat my wife will be. 
144 




WEN DE FROGS BEGIN TO SING 



W'EN March has com' an' 
An' said a las' good by, 
An' April she is here wance mor', 

I feel so young an' spry. 
Wen buds dey all bus' open op, 

Make welcome of de spring, 
De air get sof an' den de frog' 
Dey ees commence to sing. 

145 



W EN DE FROGS BEGIN TO SING 

You hear clem croak dere ol' rough t'roat- 

How happy dey mus' be, 
Jus' singin' all de day an' night, 

It's lak' gran' orchestree. 
Dey gadder in de pon' an' sloo, 

Mak' air wid music ring, 
For it ees com' now April tarn* 

Wen frogs begin to sing. 

De red-bud dere opon de tree 

Ees all fill op wid bloom ; 
De wir plum an' de crab blossome 

Ees rech wid dere perfume : 
De birds dey sass wan nudder back 

An' all dat sort of t'ing. 
For dis ees in de April tam' 

Wen frogs begin to sing. 

No tam' lak' dat to sit an' res', 

Wen day's work she ess done. 
An' feel de sout' win' on your cheek. 

An' watch de children's fone ; 
No tam' de year I better lak' 

Dan in de beauty spring, 
De eart' wakes op from winter sleep 

An' frogs begin to sing. 
146 




y^PC) 






W EN DE FROGS BEGIN TO SING 

Sing on, sing- on, you spotted t'roats ! 

Keep op your little tune, 
You wan' to mak' de practice op 

For summer afternoon. 
De cricket an' de katydid 

Will soon their fiddles brinir. 
An' de hull worl' wid verree joy 

Will join de frogs to sing. 




l*N||[iiiiiiP^=qjii| 



J 49 




ONCL' ANTOINE ON 'CHANGE 



(Antoine Boisvert, Raconteur.) 



I'VE jus' com' from Chicago town, 
A seein' all de sights 
From stockyard to de ballet gairl, 

All drass' in spangled tights. 
But all de worstes' nonsens' 
T'roo vich I got to wade, 
I t'ink de t'ing dat gats de cake 
Ees place called Board of Trade. 

150 



ONCL ANTOINE ON CHANGE 

I heard moch talk about clem chap 

Dey call de Bull au' Bear, 
Dat play aroun' with price of stock 

An' get you unaware. 
Who'll tell you w'at your wheat 

Will bring in Fevuary nex', 
In jus' so smood an' c|uiet vay 

De cure read his tex'. 

An' dere dey vere out on de floor, 

De mans who mak' de price 
Of all de country produce, 

A lookin' smood an' nice. 
But dey had vink opon dere eye 

Dat look you t'roo an' t'roo, 
Like tricky bunko steerer ven 

He's hunting after you. 

Dey got de ball to roll ver swif 

An' firs' fall from de dock 
Vas bottom off on July pork ; 

An' heem dat held de stock 
Commence to hiss an' wriggle 

Lak' a yellow rattlesnake ; 
De res' buzz jus' lak' bumblebee 

Stirred op vit hayin' rake. 

153 



oncl' antoine on 'change 

Dis bottom off on July pork 

Is strike me kin' of queer, 
Ts t'ink dat hogs is good for eat 

Mos' all of de 'hole year. 
Dose feller on Chicago town 

Is mak' such fonny phrase 
Dat — entre nous — I sometimes t'ink 

Dat som' of dem ees craz'. 

Den dere ees something happen 

Dat mak' 'em more excite', 
Wen news ees com' overe de vires 

Dat Boer an' Britain fight, 
I nevere saw such meex-op yet, 

In days since I be born, 
Dey scowl an' call wan nodder names, 

Dere faces show moch scorn. 

Wan man grow wild an' mos'ly craz', 

De tears stream off his eyes, 
Dere's nodder man dat's laf an' shout, 

It's mak' me mos' surprise. 
I guess it mak' som' differance 

Vich side you're on de fence, 
But in dis Bear an' Bull meex-op 

I see not ver' moch sense. 
154 



ONCL ANTOINE ON CHANGE 

I gat me out of dere might' quick, 

I don' vant stay dere more, 
I t'ink dere lot of gr'ad beeg fool, 

Dat Stan' opon de floor ; 
De 'hole hee::nesse ees foolishment. 

Now let me tell to you, 
I t'ink dat gr'ad beeg man could fin' 

Moch better job for do. 

An' now I'm home again wance mor' 

Were all de year aroun' 
Dere is contentment everyw'ere. 

An' peace an' comfort's foun' : 
Were poverty an' greed of gold 

Don' nevere fill de air, 
An' nodding runnin' loose aroun' 

Dat dey call Bull an' Bear. 



155 




ANATOLE DUBOIS AT DE HORSE SHOW 



MY vife an' me ve read so moch 
In papier here of late. 
About Chicago Horse Show, ve 

Remember clay an' date. 
Ve mak' it op togedder dat 

Ve go an' see dat show, 
Dere's som't'ing dere ve fin' it out 
Maybe ve vant to know. 

156 



ANATOLE DUBOIS AT DE HORSE SHOW 

Ve leave de leddle farm avile, 

Dat's near to Bourbonnais ; 
Ve're soon op to Chicago town 

For spen' de night an' day; 
I nevere lak' dat busy place, 

It's mos' too swif for me, — 
Ve vaste no tam', but gat to place 

Dat ve is com' for see. 

Ve pay de price for tak' us in, 

Dey geeve me deux ticquette ; 
Charlotte an' me ve com' for see 

De Horse Show now, you bet. 
Ve soon gat in it veree moch, 

''De push," I t'ink you call. 
To inside on de beeg building, 

Ve're going to see it all. 

De Coliseum is de place, 

Dey mak' de Horse Show dere. 
Five tam's so beeg dan any barn 

At Bourbonnais, by gar ! 
Fm look aroun' for place dey haf 

For dem to pitch de hay. 
"I guess it's 'out of sight,' I t'ink," 

Dey's von man to me say. 
159 



ANATOLE DUBOIS AT DE HORSE SHOW 

An' den ve valk aroun' an' 'roun' 

Som' horses for to see ; 
Dere's pretty vomans, lots of dem, 

But, for de life of me, 
I can not see de trotter nag, 

Or vat's called t'oroughbred, 
I vonder if ve mak' mistake, 

Gat in wrong place instead. 

But Charlotte is not disappoint', 

Her eyes dey shine so bright. 
It's ven she sees dem vimmens folks, 

Dey dance vit moch delight ; 
I den vos tak' a look myself 

On ladies vit fin' drass, 
Dere's nodding else in dat whol' place 

Dat is so interes'. 

I say, ''Charlotte," say I to her, 

''Dat ladee in box seat — 
Across de vay vos von beeg swell, 

Her beauty's hard to beat; 
De von dat's gat ionce eyeglass 

Opon a leddle stek, 
I'm t'ink she is mos' fin' loo^m 

Wen she bow an' spe'k. 
1 60 



ANATOLE DUBOIS AT DE HORSE SHOW 

*lt's pretty drass dat she's got on, 

I lak' de polonaise, 
Vere bodice it is all meex op 

Vit jabot all de vays. 
Dat's hang- in front vit pleats all roun' 

It is von fin' tableau." 
An' den Charlotte she turn to me 

An' ask me how I know 

So moch about de Beeg Horse Show, 

W'ich we are com' for see ; 
An' den I op an' tol' her dere 

Dat I had com' to be 
Expert on informatione, 

Read papier, I fin' out 
Vat all is in de Horse's Show, 

An' vat's it all about. 

I point to ladee in nex' box. 

She's feex op mighty veil, 
I vish I could haf vords enough 

Vat she had on to tell ; 
De firs' part it vas nodding moch, 

From cloth it vas quite free, 
Lak' fleur-de-lis at Easter tam, 

Mos' beautiful to see, 
163 



ANATOLE DUBOIS AT DE HORSE SHOW 

An' den dere is commence a line 

Of fluffy cream souflle, 
My vife it mak' her very diz', 

She's not a vord to say. 
An' den com' yard of crcpc de chine, 

Vit omelette stripe beneadt', 
All fill it op vit fine guimpe jew'ls 

An' concertina pleat. 

Mon Dieu ! an' who vould evere t'ink 

Dat Horse Show vas lak' dese ! 
A Horse Show dere vidout no horse, 

I t'ink dat's strange h^Qzucssc. 
But I suppose affer de man 

De dry-goods bill dey pay, 
Dere's nodding lef to spen' on horse 

Ontil som' odder day. 

I tell you every hour you leeve. 

You fin' out som't'ing new ; 
An' now I haf som' vords to tell, 

Som' good it might do you ; 
It's mighty fonny, de advise 

I'm geeve to you, of course, 
But never go to Horses Show 

Expecting to see horse. 
164 




JEAN PETER LONG 



MY name it ees Jean Peter Long, 
But Fm call' Long for short , 
I'm com' here to de Colonee 
From Canadaw op Nort' ; 
Fm Frenchman wance, but now full blood 

American, you see, 
I am know h'every man in town, 
An' h'every wan knows me. 
167 



JEAN PETER LONG 

Dey call me ''J^ck of all de trades,'^ 

Dat's tak' smart man, dey say, 
To fin' wan dat can do mor' t'ings 

Dan me, you'll go 'long way. 
It's not de place for me to brag, 

Set myself 'bove the res', 
But I tell you som' of de t'ings 

Dat I can do the bes'. 

I'm mak' jardin, de carpet beat, 

Mos' h'every t'ing I do, 
I'm janiteur de beeg building, 

Can mow de yard for you ; 
An' if you want de well clean' out, 

You better com' to me, 
I mak' short job of it for you— 

Of dat dey all agree. 

I'm pos' de bill for med'cine man, 

Also for show troupe, too; 
Wan tam' I go opon de tour^ 

'Bout dis I tell to you ; 
Dere's Oncle Tommy Cabane Show, 

Propertee man dey need, 
T'ree dollar week dey offer me. 

An' wid it go my feed. 
1 68 



JEAN PETER LONG 

Propertee man is soiin' ver' beeg^ 

Impress it mak' on me ; 
I am tak' care of all de show — 

Dat's high position, see? 
Wen I'm com' back, I will hobnob 

Wid all de high folks roun', 
Wid banker man an' reech farmere, 

All overe de hull town. 

But I soon fin' dat de prop' man, 

He's not so ver' gran' t'ing, 
I'm tak' full charge de fierce bloodhoun'^ 

To donkey water bring. 
I'm imitate dose bloodhoun' bark 

In middle of de play, 
But donkey he mak' two, t'ree kick. 

Wen I gat in de way. 

At Watseek we are mak' de stan', 

We're com' to gran' tableau, 
Were Mad'moiselle, he walk de ice, 

Dey're short on soap-box — so 
Dey mak' me gat opon de floor, 

Covere me op so nice 
Wid w'ite papier ontil I look 

Lak one beeg cake of ice= 
171 



JEAN PETER LONG 

Eliza she step on my back, 

She's mak' escape h'all h'right 
From dog an' h'all dat chase her so, 

She gat cjuick out of sight ; 
De dog dey cross across de ice, 

But w'en dey step me op, 
Dey t'ink I'm w'at dere looking for, 

Start chew me for dere sup'. 

It's tam' for me mak' myself scarce, 

I do it, hicntot: 
Dey tak' large piece irouscrc from me 

Wile down de stair I go; 
Dose houns dey are chase affer me, 

Dey run an' mak' loud bark, 
It's den I wish ol' Noah had 

Lef all dog off de h'ark. 

Fm rone it two, t'ree, four, five mile, 

I'm 'fraid look hohind me, 
Fm t'ink I am not stop it wance 

'Till Papineau I see. 
An' now dat I am gat bac' safe, 

Nevere again I'll roam. 
For nex' show wan' me go on road, 

By gosh ! I'll stay at home. 
172 




AVU#1>W^'«' 



FOOTBALL AT CHEBANSE 



DIS ball on foot, day play las' we'k, 
Vas mighty fonny game, 
Dey might haf called it "gran' prize fight,' 

I t'ink dat's better name. 
De match, it vos feex op between 
De High School on Chebanse, 
An' Parish School of ol' Ste. Anne's 
On nodder side de fence. 
^72> 



FOOTBALL AT CHEBANSE 

Dey's nodding else dat talk about, 

For four, five we'k or more; 
Dey mak' display of loafing cop 

Down at LaPlace's store. 
De loafing cop it is de prize 

For vinners of de game. 
An' on de side ees vacant place 

For to engrave dere name. 

Dey charge you fifteen cent admish, 

But I vas got in free, 
Dey use my pasture Ian' for game, 

Von dollar dey pay me. 
Dey's quite a crowd vas com' along, 

From de hull country 'roun', 
De boggay, horse an' vagon heetch 

Mos' overe de hull town. 

An' den I saw a sight, I t'ink, 

I ntvere before saw, 
Dem ball on foot chaps all feex op, 

Dey look so vild an' raw, 
Vit long hair like de monkey muff 

I t'ink dere fit for kill, 
Before dey got t'roo von meex-op— 

Fm sure, by gosh ! dey vill. 
174 



FOOTBALL AT CHEBANSE 

Dere's von gargon had muzzle on, 

Lak' dey put on mad dog, 
I say, ''Captaine, vat for dat ees?" 

He say, ''He bite like hog; 
Ven in de middle of de game. 

He got ver' moch excite, 
He need dose crowbars on in front 

To keep avay dat bite." 

Den dey got soon to beezenesse down, 

De Rouge dey all von side, 
De Bleu dey line on front of dem, 

Vaitmo- for vord from guide. 
He say "All h'right !" an' den de Rouge 

Garcon dat stan' ahead, 
He ben' down lak' he play leap-frog, 

Overe de ball an' said : 

"T'ree sixty-ate, two, five, fourteen !" 

An' den back t'roo he's legs 
He's geeve dat ball an awful push, 

An' den lak' scrambled eggs, 
Dem garc^on gat togedder quick, — 

It vas a mos' surprise. 
You can't tell vat dey vos look like 

If you had t'ousan' eyes. 
177 



FOOTBALL AT CHEBANSE 

Dey push an' squeeze, an' dan dey mak', 

Vat I call tug of var, 
An' pretty soon dere's von garcon, 

He don' know vere he are. 
"He's put to sleep," dey's some von say. 

He's tired, I suppose; 
I t'ink it's fonny tarn' for nap, 

Ven you gat bloody nose. 

De Rouge dey gain t'ree, four, five point, 

Dey mak' une gran' "tooch op." 
Dis put de coleur Bleu on fire, 

Dey t'ink of loafing cop, 
Dey start de game vonce more, again, 

In almos' de same vay. 
De bleachere shout, an' yell it loud. 

To "push on an' mak' hay." 

I bate dat valk dat Teddy took, 

Ven he run San Juan hill, 
Vas nevere half so hard to dim' 

As dis here football mill. 
O my ! O my ! de blood dey spill, 

Mos' two full bucketsful. 
It looks more lak' beeg slaughter pen, 

Vere Spaniard fight de bull. 

178 




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Hi«llVv^«^'^^\\\^^» 



FOOTBALL AT CHEBANSE 

For US now, soon, dough ve don' know, 

Dere's incident in store, 
But ve too interes' in game 

To t'ink of nodding more. 
Dere's bull on Theabault's pasture. 

He's vink de odder eye, 
He's ears dey vas stan' dem op straight, 

He's head he hoF it high. 

De Rouge, he's mak' it von gran' rush, 

Dat bull he's mak' von, too. 
He's jomp de fence, an' den commence. 

For meex op in dat stew. 
In jus' about two minute more. 

He haf de field alone ; 
He haf de hull place by heemself, 

He fin' it's all his own. 

Ve's scatter quick, lak' many flea, 

Mak' prompt for de timbere. 
Ve all gat out of dere right soon, 

Ve vas so awful scare. 
It's den de game, it vas call off 

Dat's mean, it vas bus' op. 
An' all decide de Durham bull 

Vas vin dat loafing cop. 
l8i 



m 35 1904 



